Everything turns to Grey
by laur13
Summary: A what-if story where Ana left Christian for Chicago not knowing she is pregnant with Phoebe. Phoebe believes her last name is Harms and her father is Jacob. A chance meeting in the small bookstore Ana owns and Phoebe works at will change Phoebe's life forever. Bad summary! First FanFic please review!
1. Chapter 1

As I sit behind a huge set of boxes, that I have conveniently stacked so I am invisible to the outside world, I take inventory of my life. My name, Phoebe Harms. My age, sixteen. My mission, to somehow unpack, label, put into inventory and put away six huge boxes of books my mother ordered; before she left the country to meet with a writer she helped get published. I let out an exasperated breath. I can hear Jared my boyfriend and co-worker humming to himself, luckily for him he picked heads so I was left with the stocking while he holds down the cash register. As if anyone would venture in today. Most of the college kids have gone home for winter break or have better things to do than hang out in a bookstore/café/whatever will make money store. Chicago seems to be trying to prove herself as the windy city today because I can feel the wind in my bones as I hear it bat against the front doors. Just start already, I think to myself. I lift my headphones up to my ears and let the music play loudly. All I can think of is tonight. Whenever my mother leaves (a very rare occasion) my father and I have a feast. By feast I mean three different kinds of take-out food and movies.

My dad, Jacob Harms, works construction and is probably hundreds of feet up right now working on a sky scraper. My mother Anastasia, is probably have tea in London, hopefully ears burning from the profanities I am whispering as I take out stack, after stack of books. My parents are technically divorced but, you would not know it. Our house looks quite normal on the outside but it is actually a two flat brownstone located on the north side of Chicago. My mom and I live upstairs and my father lives downstairs. Although my parents are divorced we still do everything together meals, trips and holidays. I do not really question why anymore, they are enigma I will not try to understand.

I have lived in Chicago my whole life. My parents met here after my mom moved from somewhere in Washington to Illinois. My parents married when I was a couple months old and divorced when I was almost six. A piece of hair falls into my face while I am slapping on labels in the front cover of the books I have just unloaded. I quickly re-do my ponytail so that I can put a dent in this inventory before 5pm. As I try to make my hair cooperate, I cannot help but cursing my mother again for not giving me any of her genes. I have the same color brunette hair but, it has never laid straight and perfect. Often my hair is unruly and wavy. I begin to ponder more on this subject. My mother is short and lean while I have been taller than her since high school and built more like an athlete than a ballerina. My eyes do not match either of my parents, for they are blue while mine are grey. My dad always tells me I look just like his grandmother when she was young and my mother usually says nothing on the subject. My dad has very blonde hair, and is not much taller than me, I do not see myself reflected in him.

I realize I have quit working while pondering my heritage so I begin again, this time faster. I have just completed my second box when Jared strolls down the aisle. He has the stupidest grin on his face while he slowly walks towards me.

"See, this is why you should never try to beat me in a coin toss Pheebs, because I always win", he chuckles.

"Jared I would suggest going away before I throw one of these books at your head," I mutter.

But he does not leave, instead he laughs at me while grabbing a box of books. I guess he has decided to help me after all. I suspected as much. Jared is far too happy for his own good and enjoys everything about life. He keeps humming away as we continue to unload and label the books.

It is four thirty when the familiar bell chimes letting us know someone has entered the store. Jared and I give each other quizzical looks wondering who would be here. I smile as I wave my hand in front of me letting him know customers are still his job today. He rolls his eyes, stands up and walks down the aisle toward the counter. My bulky head phones are around my neck, I turn up my music now that Jared and I are separated. I can still hear the conversation unfolding though.

"Good afternoon sir, how may I help you", Jared begins.

"I am looking for Anastasia", the man inquires in a no nonsense tone.

"I am sorry but, she is not in today maybe you would like to speak to her daughter", I can sense the smile playing on Jared's lips as he calls my name.

Ugh, I grown, as I lift myself off my now asleep legs and make my way slowly along the book shelves. As I turn the corner I meet a set of identical grey eyes staring back at me. The owner of these eyes is dressed in the type of cloths you see business men wearing along Michigan Ave, his hair looks unruly and tame all at the same time. The man seems to be my father's age and as I take him in a memory slowly comes into my mind.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for the favorites and reviews! I hope you guys like the way the story is unfolding. Please leave me comments and suggestions. _

The memory comes to me in waves. I am in my mother's closet, searching for my bathing suit. We always pack up our summer cloths into huge storage tubs. Since the winter is so long and frigid we have a lot more winter cloths and the summer ones need to be put away to make room for the heavy jackets and sweaters. Our flat is not large and my mother is the only one with a walk in closet so all of our tubs go into her room. My bathing suit is probably packed far below one of the four boxes, I dig and dig to no avail. My father has surprised us with a trip to Wisconsin Dells and I need my bathing suit for the indoor water park he promised. Just as I am about to give up a box shoved far into the corner catches my eye.

I know exactly what it is, a keep sake box. My mother gave me one just like it when I was 8, she told me that I should keep everything I wish to remember and everything I should never forget inside the box. I quickly dislodge the box from the corner and rip it open. The box is filled to the brim with papers and a grotesque amount of pictures. I go for them first. I see faces I have never seen before. A young blonde is staring back at me in the first pictures with her arm wrapped around my mom's shoulder, both smiling excitedly at the camera from the background it looks like graduation. The next picture confirms that, this one showing both of them in gowns and caps standing with a blonde male which must be the blonde girl's brother from the resemblance. I turn the photo over. Yes! My mom labeled it: Kate, Ethan and I. Never heard of them I think to myself, just then I think I hear the front door open. I quickly pack the pictures back in the box. I am about to shove it directly where I found it, before my mother can catch me snooping, when I see a picture laying on the floor.

The back is facing up and I can see the inscription on the back reads Christian. I flip the photo over and see a young man with stunning features smirking back me. He has on a white button down shirt, which is perfectly pressed, with the two top buttons undone and his grey tie slightly loosened. He looks somewhat playful like he doesn't want the picture taken but the person holding the camera left him no choice but to take one. The last thing I notice is his stunning grey eyes that look mischievous and happy.

I am snapped back to reality by the same man, only slightly aged, staring back at me, I think he has asked me a question so I respond with an elegant "Huh".

He clears his throat and repeats himself. "My name is Christian Grey, nice to meet you, Phoebe right," he then extends his hand.

I take it and respond, "Yes, Phoebe… I am sorry but, my mother is away perhaps I could help you", I let go of his hand. Maybe this is an old friend? Perhaps a friend who is willing to invest in my mom's company. I berate myself to be helpful, my mom is so close to starting a small publishing company. With the success of her first and second author people seem to be realizing her skill of finding authors and helping books become best sellers.

"Do you know when she will be back", he questions.

"Not for two more days, she is in London visiting an author," I respond quickly and politely. Maybe a little smug, I am very proud of my mother for making her dreams a reality and never giving up.

"Oh I see", he seems to be thinking very hard on his next move and before I can say another word he continues, " she left you hear to manage the store, unsupervised", he looks to Jared who is pretending to be dusting or cleaning the book shelves to our immediate right.

I turn to Jared and give him a harsh glare and he quickly mumbles something about boxes and books and then disappears, to clean up the mess we both left when this man came in I can only assume. I can sense Christian seems to disapprove of the situation, like my mother left me all alone in a big city, with a boy who looks like he can barely take care of himself.

"No, unfortunately the store is pretty dead when the college kids are gone and when the weather is this bad", I gesture outside to the wind and slow blowing around, "and my father is supervising me, here and at home. He had to go into his other job today".

This gets a reaction out of him. I have no idea why but, he seems to tense up and his grey eyes seem to change from cool and concentrated to a stormy and unpredictable. I must let on I can tell a difference because his face transforms into a mask of indifference almost immediately.

"How old are you Phoebe", he questions.

"Sixteen", I respond

"You have lived in Chicago your whole life".

"Yah, well I spend the summers with my grandparents. They have a farm about two hours away. Most people do not realize when you get out of Chicago and head south you are in a different world after about thirty minutes", I stop suddenly. I am having a classic episode of word vomit, to a complete stranger to boot, I quickly digress.

Christian seems to realize I am slightly embarrassed and done talking because after about thirty seconds he closes the conversation. "Well Miss…. I am sorry I did not get your last name".

"Harms", I respond softly.

"Miss Harms, thank for your time", he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a card and gives it to me "I look forward to speaking to your parents but if you ever need anything, please give me a call". He begins to walk out and I turn to watch him leave just realizing now that there is another man who has been standing by the door the whole time. Does he travel with a servant or butler? As soon as Christian and the other man leave I see that they have started a heated conversation while walking to their black Audi SUV parked across the street.

I see Jared appear from behind the book shelf and we both stare as the men enter their car and drive away. "Butler definitely, he drives him around, probably picks up the dry cleaning and cleans the bat cave", I say.

"Knows all of his secrets but keeps them because he knew his parents and wants justice too", Jared adds.

"Business man by day, and

at dusk becomes the dark knight", I whisper.

"Dun, dun, dun," Jared adds. We both laugh. "If only, maybe he could take out Mr. Jackson for cruel and unusual punishment in calculus…. Let's get going we can finish this stuff up tomorrow I told my mom I would be home by 5:30". Jared walks into the back to grab our jackets and locks up the register. I am stuck in my position looking at the parking spot that is now vacant. _Who are you?_ I wonder. I know that man I have seen him in a picture he must be someone of importance. While I am lost in thought Jared walks up behind me and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"Ready"?

"Yup", I respond.

We leave the store and head north. Jared lives two blocks up from me so I never have to walk home alone. Which is nice but today I am lost in thought. He asks me a couple of things but I give vague answers and he starts humming to himself so I can be left in my own world. After mulling it over I decide I will ask my dad when I get home.

As we approach my house I ask Jared if he will pick me up tomorrow so we can head to the store to finish the books since we will be closed on Sunday and will not have to deal with the pesky Bruce Wayne types. He laughingly agrees. Jared takes me in his arms, squeezes me tight, pulls away and plants a kiss on my lips. Then he is off. About ten paces into his walk he turns around and yells "I love you Phoebe Harms".

"Love you", I yell back. Then I take my key out and walk up the steps to my house.

Nothing goes as planned. I did not realize some family would be waiting for me. My uncle Mike and Aunt Sarah have drove up to spend time with my father and I. These are just two out of the five siblings my dad has. All of them stayed in the small town in which they grew up, except for my dad. He went to college and got a Masters in computer information systems, realized he hated his job, quit and now works construction. He still knows way too much about computers so he fixes friends and families on occasion. I know he can do a lot more than fix computers probably knows more about messing them up. No one can be that good at getting rid of viruses and wiping computers without knowing how to make viruses and why you would need to wipe a computer.

The night is filled with lots of food and laughs. My cousins miss me and cannot wait for the summer to come so we can all hang out again, my uncle and aunt inform me. My grandmother has sent a package with my aunt for me filled with homemade cookies, jam and a note. Same old grandma thing she loves me, misses me, hopes I am eating enough and that she will see me soon. My grandfather even wrote a small paragraph about a new rifle he got. The night passes by me, I never even mention the man with the grey eyes. I go to bed that night with a light heart, full stomach and sleep peacefully.

_Christian POV_

"I should have said something", I snap at Taylor.

"I do not think that would have been wise sir. She seems completely oblivious to who are and Ana and this….. Harms man have evidently never told her about her father", Taylor states calmly.

I let out a frustrated huff of air. This was not supposed to be complicated. When Kate ran into Ana at Midway airport she never mentioned a daughter or a husband. Just that Ana was definitely living in Chicago. After all these years of false leads, bogus addresses, bogus credit cards and confusing information, I was finally going to get answers. Why? Was that so much for me to ask of her. Now the questions seem to be piling up. A daughter? A daughter so apparently mine that I cannot even deny that is my child. No not child, teenager. How could she do this? Was I that mean, heartless and messed up for her to never even give me a chance to be a dad?

And this Harms guy. How long has this been going on? Venom rises in my throat, she passed him off as Phoebe's father. I promised John I would not lose my temper no matter what I found when I came here but, I cannot contain this much hostile energy inside of me, I take my glass and whip it across the room. It shatters. Taylor rushes in. "I'm fine", I bark at him. He studies the broken glance and walks away. I need to do something, I pick up the phone and dial my father's number.

"Christian", he answers.

"Dad I think I am in need of legal counsel and some advice".

_So, what do you think? Is it all coming together? What do you think will happen? What do you want to happen? Let me know! I will update ASAP!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Well here is a little chapter in Ana's point of view. Please comment and review. Tell me what you think! Too dramatic, not dramatic enough? Bad or good every comment helps me._

Ana's POV

I cannot believe I made it here. London. The city I dreamt of for years, a place where some of my favorite books were written. Authors I have admired since childhood have walked the very streets that I have been touring the last couple of days. I feel complete, like I am fully whole. I look to the empty bed and remember how far I have come.

It was a raining as usual in Seattle when I packed a small bag and left. Things had gotten progressively worse between Christian and I. There is still an ache deep in my heart for him. I have covered it up and piled things on top of it but it is still there. Can I take most of the blame? Probably, I did leave. To be honest I had every intention of returning, I just wanted some time to think. Can anyone imagine being constantly monitored? Every action I took, any choice I made, could be looked up and researched. It was like living in the novel 1984 except the government was my boyfriend. It was one sided, Christian knew everything and controlled everything.

Has anyone ever fallen in love like Christian and I did. It was beautiful, fast and exciting; at first. Then you realize how much more you need out of someone not just lust and desire, those things fade. I remember telling myself I was coming back, even as I shoved fifty thousand dollars into the small bag, I was crying and telling myself that I would be back. When I finally made it to Chicago, I was happy. It was a rush I had never experienced in my life. I felt like a fugitive on the run. Do not use credit cards or your real name just keep your head down. I was twenty-two and for the first time in months I felt that way.

It must have been fate meeting Jake outside the bookstore. He was staring through the window with a messenger bag hanging off his shoulder looking as if he was trying to will the store into a different entity with his mind. The store had been closed since I came here, about a week now. It was easy to find the college district even easier to find an open room in the various apartments with someone willing to accept cash and not ask questions. I crossed the street and began to stare at the store with him. It took him a minute to notice me.

"You look deep in concentration", I began.

"Yah", he laughs, "I came here every day while I was getting my bachelor's degree, and almost every other day since I have been getting my master's."

"What happened", I question him.

"To the store? The women who owns it, is old. She can no longer take care of it. She has a good heart but no business skills. She has been hiring college kids to run the store for the last couple of years, obviously they keep leaving and she is left high and dry", he tells me.

I am interested now, I cup my hands around my temples so I can look in the window. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The bookshelves are filled to the brim, with new and old books. There are couches and pillows set up as if they are inviting you in to sit and get lost in a book. Tables with vintage style lamps for studying. A small bar that looks like it holds coffee and tea. Then in the very back a beautiful nook fit with beautiful paintings; it looks serene.

"What is she planning on doing with it", I ask.

"Well she rents the space, it's the inventory she wants to get rid of, she has to the end of the month", he lets out a sigh. This place much be special to him. "I would take it in a heartbeat but I am full time in school. I could never run a shop profitably with my schedule."

I am clearly high off old book fumes seeping from the closed doors of the book store. "How much"? I demand.

"Well 40,000 for all the inventory and to finish off the rent for the remainder of the year", he says.

"I can go half with you, I do not know much about construction if you wanted to do improvements but I can definitely run a store and I know a lot about books. I have a diploma to prove that", I state.

He looks at me dumbfounded for a second. Then I see a spark in his eye he finally speaks, "Really"?

"Yah really", I respond.

He suggest we go get coffee and speak about the deal I have proposed. After we formally introduce ourselves at the table we get down to business. I love the vision he has; a place for young college students to hang out off campus. We could offer text books, host parties for the sororities and fraternities. I see he has thought about this for a while now. When he begins to talk about contracts and a business proposal I lay down my stipulations.

"I would rather be a silent partner, I do not want to be on any of the contracts and if you want to write up a business agreement between us that is fine but I ask you that you keep it as insurance and not file it anywhere", I see he his giving me a strange look, "Look I know this seems weird but, you can tell I am not a liar or a cheat I have the money and it is mine. If you want the store that badly and trust me at all you will agree to this."

He stares at me like he was staring at the store. I hope he is not try to will me into confessing all my secrets which seem to be stuck in the back of my throat. After a moment he nods, "Yes, I will agree to that, I will meet with Mrs. Winters tomorrow and discuss this. I am sure she will take it. Let's meet at my house around two tomorrow."

I agree and he writes down his address on a napkin, shakes my hand and leaves. I sit transfixed to my spot at the table. _What am I doing? _I wonder. I am not staying here. I am going back to Seattle. I left Christian a note that says I am coming back. I do not know if I lied to him or myself.

I reason with myself the next morning as I am getting ready to go to Jake's that I need this, spend a few months by myself doing something I love and then I will be ready to go home. Christian made me quit SIP three weeks before I left for Chicago. Apparently the math was off when he acquired SIP, the company was pretty much ruined and Christian and his board of directors had decided to liquidate the company of their assets and call it a wash. I realized that I took this personally and no matter how much I begged Christian and told him the people there were good, they needed their jobs, he would not listen. Even though I quit I somehow managed to get a severance package. Fifty thousand dollars exactly. I had decided that since the money came from books I would put it back into books, somehow. I got my chance, without Christian over my shoulder trying to dictate my life. I would stay here a couple of months, prove to him and myself that I could be my own person, and make something of myself.

When I finally arrived at Jake's it is almost 2:15. I had gotten lost walking the streets of Chicago, how silly I am going to seem, since he gave me directions from the bookstore, it is only a couple of blocks. He greets me warmly when I enter and directs me to the kitchen. I smell fresh food being made and am glad to sit down after my long walk. Jake goes over to a pot and begins to stir. "I thought a celebration was in order", he smiles.

After hammering out the details he ask me where I am staying and I tell him. He lets out a small giggle and he asks me if I have been getting any sleep. I tell him no. Unfortunately cheap and no contract come with a price. My apartment building is pretty much a frat party every night. He explains that the upstairs to his house is actually separate and he would be willing to rent it to me for 1,000 dollars and "under the table" as I would prefer. I jump at the chance to get out of the apartment and gladly take it.

The next few weeks fly by. Jake has to be in school a lot so I am left to organize the store for a reopening. I like it. I have to concentrate I can't think about anything else or anybody while I am working. Nights are a different story. I lay in bed yearning for Christian's touch. I start spending the evenings with Jake. He usually cooks and tells me all about himself. He made money from a program he developed his senior year in college. Enough to put down the 20,000 for the store and to get himself his master's degree. Jake tells me of his home town and his family. He speaks fondly of the Midwest's country side. The whole time I tell myself the day will come when I will have to say good-bye to Jake and to the store and face the music back in Seattle. Every time I have this thought I push it away and bury it, for some reason I do not want the day to come.

I feel sick after a two months in Chicago. I must be getting the flu. Jake urges me to stay home. He tells me the store is almost done and I could take a day off. I refuse. Jake is slowly becoming one of my best friends. I have told him bits and pieces about myself but I think he knows I am running from something. He does not push the subject and the less he pushes the more I want to tell him. When we arrive at the store I tell him I need to sit down. As I am sitting on the couch trying to fight the wave of nausea, I realize Jake has put a bucket to my left. My self-control goes out the window and I happily and painfully release the contents of my stomach into the bucket. I am glad Jake had class I hate people watching me puke. I wish I wasn't sick. Then I realize something, I might not be sick.

I am almost running back to my flat with the test securely wrapped in a bag, which I am clutching to my chest. I tear the box open read and then follow the directions. I turn on the T.V. to try and relax myself so I can wait two minutes. Something the newscaster said catches my attention.

_It seems the explosive device decimated the pent house of this Seattle apartment building. Luckily no one was injured the apartment was vacant at the time. _

I drop to the couch. Escala in flames is all I see. Someone tried to kill Christian? No one was home…..thank god. I look at the clock, it is 8:30 there. Well I know one person who would have been killed, I absent mildly grab the test and flip it over. Two, I know two people who would have been killed.

I am a wreck for fifteen minutes. My tears will not stop, I can feel my face contorting into one of those cry faces you would be ashamed of anyone witnessing. I have thrown my phone across the room, it is a prepaid I got when I arrived, and I know Christian's number by heart. Every time I try to dial his number all I see is a corpse. My corpse, burned and mangled. My child would never have a future, I would never have a future. I realize that this baby is more important than Christian and I pull myself together. I decided that day that I would never be able to live a normal life with Christian, my child would never have a normal life. Not just the threat of danger lurking over us but, from Christian himself. It would 10x worse now. The body guards the surveillance. My child, he or she would never have privacy, would never be normal. That was the first time I welcomed the thoughts of never going back.

_I have so much to say but I am falling behind on my studies so I will not be able to write another chapter until next week. So please ponder this. How many of you would hate it if Christian and Ana were not going to reconcile? Can you ever picture yourselves liking Jake? Let me know!_


	4. Chapter 4

I am so sorry for not updating. School has been crazy. Please forgive me?! I will update more often I will be on spring break soon!

I woke up early to my dad cleaning up the kitchen. "Hey kiddo", he says, as I walk in a daze to the fridge and grab an energy drink. "Are you and Jared going to the book store", he questions.

"Yah, we are trying to get that order unpacked and on the shelf before mom gets back", I say.

"Well do not work too hard. You are on break from school and your grandmother has been asking about you", my dad says while pouring out beer from the bottles so he can throw it away.

I know my grandmother wants me to come and stay with her and my grandfather. All of my dad's family lives about an hour and a half south of Chicago. It is the middle of nowhere as far as I am concerned. I spend every summer there. I have so many cousins from my dad's brothers and sisters. I spend every summer hanging out with them, I have my own room at my grandparents. It would be nice to see everyone. My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door.

Jared lets himself in but doesn't move from the welcome mat, his boots are covered in slush and snow. I give my dad a hug, grab my boots and jacket, then leave. Jared and I walk hand in hand to the bookstore. We go around to the back entrance where the office and small break room are. We start shedding our winter attire placing our boots by the heater and hanging up our jackets and scarfs. I am on edge for some reason. I feel like something bad is going to happen. I always let my anxieties freak me out. I take a calming breath.

"What's wrong", Jared ask.

I give a weak smile. "I do not know. I just feel off. I am glad we are working today I need something to keep me busy until my mom comes home."

Jared walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist. "I could take your mind off things for a little while," he whispers in my ear.

I smile at him. Then I lean in to kiss him. Before I know it we are on the small loveseat in the break room. I am trying to lift off Jared's shirt but he has somehow wrapped it around his head with one arm in and one arm out. I let out a giggle. Just then I hear a knock on the front door of the store. I look at Jared. If it were my dad he would have used the back door with his key and then killed Jared and possibly me if he caught us. I reach for my shirt and quickly put it on. As Jared fumbles with his shirt and pants; I make my way to the front door. I am thinking it is probably some college kid looking for A.) A job or B.) a book. The front doors are completely frozen over because of the subzero temperatures that come with Chicago's winters. If they would not have been frozen maybe I would have never opened the doors. I might have just slipped behind a book shelf and waited for him to leave. But, I didn't.

I unlock the door and yank it open. I see the same man from yesterday staring at me. I realize my hair is probably a mess, my shirt is probably uneven and I am barefooted. I try to say something but he walks right past me into the store. He stands where he did yesterday in front of the counter facing me. I close the door and stare at him. I see Jared walking up the hallway. Great. I am trying to think of something to say but all I can think of is, "We are not open."

Jared reaches us and is just as surprised as I am. "Can we help you?" Jared walks over to me and now both of us are staring at him.

The man whose names I cannot remember. Was it Chris, Smith or Keith? Whatever his name is looking pretty mad. Or sad? Disappointed? I cannot understand any of his emotions.

Finally he speaks, "I need to speak to Phoebe….alone."

I go rigid this guy is freaking me out, I grab onto Jared's forearm letting him know I am not okay with that. Jared in return stands up straighter and appears to be trying to make himself look bigger and tougher. "I don't think you and Phoebe have much to talk about, you wanted to talk to her mom but she is not here, I know her dad is at home, we could call him?" Jared is trying to be assertive, I think.

"Her father?" he almost laughs the words. "No kid I do not think that you understand. I don't think her "father" would be happy with what I interrupted, and I believe that we have a lot to talk about."

I am mad now. How dare he talk to me…to us…like we are children or criminals. I do not even know this guy. I feel the heat rising to my face. I scream, "Get out! Seriously get the fuck out!" I make my way behind the counter and grab the baseball bat my mom keeps back there just in case of an emergency. Jared has lost his tough guy demeanor and looks terrified that I might be considering assault and battery. I am not a "hood rat" but I grew up in Chicago and I know how to act like a degenerate when the occasion calls for it. Just as I dislodge the bat the door opens. Two more men walk in one of them I recognize, the butler, and another man who seems much older than all of us. They looked shocked when they see the bat in my hand and the man with the gray eyes in the defensive position. Jared looks like he might throw up or throw a punch I am not sure yet.

"Christian what is going on," the older man speaks gently, " I told you to wait, not to come here."

I am still clasping the bat, now it is three against two.

"Dad I just wanted to talk to her, but she and this kid were doing God only knows what, and I might have lost my temper," he says through clenched teeth.

The older man turns to me, "Phoebe my name is Carrick, I am Christian's father. I hoped we could talk to you when your mother came home but since my son has a hard time waiting I guess I must ask your permission to speak to you now."

"Listen," I say, "I do not know what your son or you want from me but, I have no interest talking to either of you."

Christian seems to be getting angrier by the second. The more I defy his wishes and turn down his requests the more his eyes turn from light shades of grey to dark aggressive shades of grey. He finally speaks. "Really? Well maybe you would like to know who your father is," he raises his hand gesturing to himself, "maybe who your grandfather is," he gestures to Carrick. "Perhaps I would like to know why you are so prone to violence and outbursts."

I stare at them. My father? I slowly lower the bat until it hits the floor. Jared has moved to the other side of the counter where the hallway that leads to the back room is located. I am shocked. So many emotions are running through me. Carrick looks disappointed and seems to be waiting for something to happen. I look at Jared, he has his phone in his hand. I know we are thinking the same thing, call my dad. I nod slightly knowing he will understand and he disappears into the back room.

"I don't know what you are talking about," is all I can think to say.

"You recognized me yesterday, I know you did," Christian says.

I stare at him and my lips move, "the picture."

"What picture," he questions.

"My mom has a picture of you in a box," I ramble.

"I am not lying Phoebe," he says his voice becomes soft. " I am your father, your mother left before you were born, I did not know you existed until a few months ago. I am here now because legally you are mine."

"Legally?" I look at him.

"I just wish to know you, Phoebe. I have a family too. People who care about you and want to know you too," Christian gives a weak smile.

Carrick looks touched by his son's words. The butler looks angry and focused. I feel sick. Then I hear the back door open and my father asks Jared where I am. My dad rushes up front and stops dead in his tracks when he sees the men. He walks straight over to me and ask me if I am okay. I nod, shakily, I can feel the tears threating to pour if I let my guard down for one second.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" my dad screams.

Christian looks furious. His hands have become fist at his sides. "I was talking to MY daughter," he bellows.

"Your daughter? YOUR DAUGHTER? She is not yours!" my dad yells.

The butler places himself in between my dad and Christian. My dad has jumped over the counter and seems to be getting ready to fight. I figure now that the butler must be Christian's bodyguard.

"Oh really? Where did she get her hair color? Her eyes? From her mother? I used to know her mother quite well and these are not her traits," Christian spats at my dad.

I feel like my dad is about to lose it. So I do the only thing I can think of, I let out a big sob. The tears are coming down now. My dad breaks concentration on Christian and comes over to me. He is holding my face telling me to call down. All I can say is I want to go home. I feel the panic starting to consume me. This is not happening. This is NOT happening!

"Dad please, please take me home, I want to go home, I want mom," I cry into his chest.

Carrick speaks up. "When Ana gets home," he looks at my dad, " we will speak again, I have already filed suit for paternity after that I hope Ana and yourself are willing to speak more openly about Phoebe and the future."

My dad lets go of me. He walks over to Carrick and takes the business card he is holding out. Christian takes the opportunity to lean over the counter and speak to me. "You still have my card?" he asks. "Yes," I whisper. "Good, call me anytime, if you need anything, or if you want answers, I will talk and tell you anything." With that they leave.

My dad walks over to me and touches my shoulder. I push him away. "Is it true?" I want him to say no. I want him to tell me I have been punk'd or it is early April Fools. He just looks away holding back tears. "Whatever he says Phoebe doesn't make you any less of my daughter. I love you so much, your mother and I were just doing what we thought was right. You do not know what type of man he is."

"Don't you think that should have been my choice?" I question.

"Phoebe you do not understand," Jake says.

"I understand that my life up until this point has been a lie! I do not even know who I am!," I yell.

I cannot take this. I walk into the backroom. Quickly, I put on my jacket and boots and walk out. Jared is waiting outside and he follows me as I start to walk in the opposite direction of my house. I need to clear my head or wake up from this nightmare.

_Ana's POV_

I have packed all of my things. Tomorrow I will be leaving and I am grateful and sad. I miss my family too much to stay any longer. I will be meeting some people for dinner in about an hour so I decide to read on the balcony until then. I hear my phone ringing so I put down my book and rush to grab it.

"Hello," I say.

"Ana," Jake says my name with relief and despair in his voice.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Ana…. He…. Christian has come to Chicago, he told Phoebe." He lets out in a choked voice.

My heart starts to race. What? How? Told Phoebe?

"Told her what," I question in a small voice.

"Everything." Jake whispers.


	5. Chapter 5

*I am so sorry that I have not updated. Please forgive me. I have been trying to write this chapter for weeks. I still am unsure but I wanted to get something posted.*

Phoebe's POV

"So are we going to talk about this or are we just going to keep walking until we hit Milwaukee?" Jared questions.

A part of me wants to punch him and another part of me wants to let him hold me so I can fall apart. I see a bench coming up so I pick up the pace. I let myself fall onto the bench a little dramatically while Jared takes a seat next to me.

"How far have we walked?" I question.

"A couple of blocks," Jared answers.

I let out a sigh. "I do not know what to say or where to start. I am just so confused. How can I believe this guy? Why would my mom and dad lie to me? So many questions are running through my head," I pause. "If this guy is really my dad, who am I then?"

Jared doesn't look at me as he speaks. "It doesn't mean you are not you. You are still Phoebe. Your family is still yours. Maybe it is a misunderstanding. Like this guy thinks he is your father, but he is not." Jared looks doubtful on that last part.

"Yah, right. I hate to admit it but, we kind of look alike." I sigh.

Just then my phone starts buzzing. The phone reads DAD. I pick it up.

"Hello"?

"Phoebe, are you alright," my dad questions.

"Yes," my voice sounds weak.

"Where are you?"

I give him the cross streets and 15 minutes later my dad pulls up in his work truck. Jared and I squeeze into the small cab. No one speaks. I guess no one knows what to say. We drop Jared off then head home. I can feel tears forming and I pray they do not spill over. As we enter the house, it feels surreal. Just last night I did the same motions. Jacket, scarf, gloves and boots hung up and put away. Yesterday I was rushing trying to get to my family quicker. I wish I would have enjoyed that moment more. I cannot exactly describe it but, it is like nothing will ever be same. Ever motion of my life from here on out will be different because of the events that have unfolded today.

"Pheebs, come here," my dad says.

We walk to the couch and sit down facing each other.

"I love you and no matter what, you are my daughter. Your mom would like to be here but, I do not think that this can wait. I am going to be honest with you. I can only hope that one day you can understand and forgive us," I take a deep breath and nod.

My dad tells me the real version of how he and my mother met. I cannot imagine my mother making such a rash decision like buying a store with some guy she barely knew. She always has a plan and a goal. When my dad finishes he stares at m" e. I think he is waiting for questions.

"Do grandma and grandpa know the truth?" I ask.

My dad looks like he is thinking very hard. "No. Well I called them so now they know now but before I think they were willfully blind to what was going on."

"Why wouldn't they ask?"

My dad lets out a breath. "Well, I wasn't supposed to be able to have kids. I got very sick when I was younger. The doctors said it probably would never happen. My parents knew how much I loved you and your mom. I do not think they cared or care now about it." He gives me a weak smile.

I know I should be mad at my dad (or do I call him Jake now?), but I leaned back and smiled at him. "So this guy, Christian must have been a huge ass if she tried to keep me away from him this long."

"From what your mother says he is the biggest ass," my dad smiles. "Listen kiddo, I'm having Keith drive up to take you to your grandparents. Before you say anything things are going to get a lot worse before they get better."

I should be mad but, Keith is my favorite cousin and I am happy to get out of here for a couple days. "How long will I be there?"

"Long enough for your mom and I to sort everything out." He responds. "Go pack. Keith will be here soon."

I climb the stairs and send Jared a quick text, then I begin to throw my wardrobe into a laundry basket. My room at my grandparents has a dresser and a closet, no reason to dig out a huge suitcase. I think my mom has all the suitcases anyway. Before I know it I hear the door open and Keith's voice echoing throughout the house. Keith is talented, he plays the guitar, sings, and participates in rodeos and derbies. I grab my huge basket and go down the stairs. We say our pleasantries, then Keith is loading my basket in the back of his extended cab truck. I am hugging my dad tightly, he kisses my forehead. I promise to call when we arrive. Then we are off. Keith waits till the city fades behind us. He grabs a cigarette and offers me one. I take it. I don't usually smoke but, I am a little stressed.

"So," he begins, "I heard you had an interesting day."

_**Jakes Point of view**_

I fall asleep early after Phoebe leaves. When I wake up the sun is barely shining over the horizon. I go into my workshop. It is supposed to be a den, but now holds tools and a drum set. I uncover the hidden project I have been working on. It is a book shelf for Phoebe, hand crafted and painted. Now I am painting all her favorite quotes onto the bookshelf. On the side that holds a moon and stars I write_, And you were just like the moon, so lonely, so full of imperfections, but just like the moon, you shined in times of darkness. _Farther down the scenery changes into a forest with dark mountains in the background I write, _Not all those who wander are lost_.

It takes me a great deal of time to do these two phrases. I have to paint them by hand, with a different script for each trying to blend as well as possible. I am trying to forget everything that has shaken my world in the last few days. I can't believe this guy who I have only read about online and been told stories about from Ana is actually here trying to tear apart my family. Were Ana and I that wrong to keep Phoebe away from him? I did not think so. From what Ana told me about his possessive nature and the way he throws money around like it means nothing, I can see why she wanted to keep her daughter hidden. I also know how many times Ana packed her bags to go back to Seattle and never could get through the front door before deciding not to go. I did not think that she would ever quit talking about him in her sleep but, she did. Her soft cries for Christian were replaced with silence and then almost magically, my name. It is weird how a well-planned out lie turned into the truth. I did everything for her even before I loved her. I left tracks of her all over the world for Christian to follow. Her name had popped up in faraway places like a small town in Russia to closer places like Los Angles. Credit cards and flight manifests showing her leaving or entering places. I gave Ana my last name and created fake documents for her. I did this for my friend. Our divorce much like our marriage was just a matter of what a few documents said. It meant nothing too us. I loved Ana, just like she loved me.

After Christian was reportedly married, according to the tabloids, we let our guard down. I know the first couple weeks after the news surfaced Ana was a little shaken. It wasn't long after we received the news about Christian that Ana asked me to change our marital status. I would be lying if I said that I was not upset by this but, as always Ana could talk me into almost anything. She made me see her side of the story that if we did not have to hide then she wanted it to be real. If in the future we wanted to get married we would but, we would do it right. It would be real, for both of us. It seemed like that day would be here soon, I had a ring in my top dresser drawer. After she got home from England I was going to pop the question, now that idea seemed ridiculous. I grabbed the remote to my IPOD dock and put on the music trying to drown out my thoughts. I become engrossed with my work and the lyrics to the songs.

_I was left to my own devices Many days fell away with nothing to show And the walls kept tumbling down  
>In the city that we love Great clouds roll over the hills Bringing darkness from above But if you close your eyes,<br>Does it almost feel like Nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes, Does it almost feel like You've been here before? How am I gonna be an optimist about this?_

**Christian POV**

Well I suppose that did not go exactly as planned. My dad gave me glares until he said goodnight yesterday and retreated to his own room last night. I know. I know we should have waited. Formed a council with lawyers, agreements and countless others stacks of papers, but I am an impatient man. Anastasia will be home late tonight if her flight information is correct, then I am hoping we can figure this all out. Half of me wants to punish her, the other half of me wants to be cold and uncaring. Unfortunately, a very small part of me wants to ask her to bring her and our daughter home. This place seems so foreign from Seattle, I cannot put my finger on it but, I cannot believe Ana lived here for so long. I am in my hotel room dressed and groomed waiting until 8:00 am comes around to try to call Phoebe. I am hoping we can get breakfast or lunch. I do feel badly about the way things happened yesterday and I want to smooth things over before Ana gets back. I look at the clock 8:01 am. I pull out my cell phone and dial Phoebe's number. Her cell phone number was listed in the employee directory at the store Anastasia and the man who pretended to be my daughter's father owns. The phone rings a couple of times and then a man picks up.

"Hello," a man says. He has a slight southern accent.

"Hello, may I please speak to Phoebe," I ask coolly.

"Phoebe is not here right now," the man answers curtly.

"I am not sure who this is but, this is Phoebe's father. I would like her to come to phone so I may speak with her immediately," I use my best no-nonsense voice.

"Oh, I see. Well this is Phoebe's grandfather and she is currently out on an early morning horseback ride with some of her cousins. I will be sure to tell her you called when she gets back," he answers unfazed.

I am dumbfounded for a second, and say, "Where in Chicago can you go for an early morning horseback ride"?

He chuckles. "I reckon nowhere, she is not in Chicago at the moment."

I suddenly become very mad very quickly, I hit the end button on my phone and call Taylor. He comes rushing in the room.

"We are going to Phoebe's home address, do not tell my father," I bark at him.

**Jake's POV**

I am almost done with one side of the bookshelf and it is only 8:30 am. The music is blaring. I have put the song from earlier on repeat and have memorized the lyrics, I really like it. I know Phoebe downloaded it to our communal iTunes account. I stop for a second while I am cleaning off a brush, I feel like this time around there is more bass than any previous version. I turn down the volume and realize someone is pounding on the front door. I jog over and swing open the old heavy door.

I wish I would have looked before I opened the it because on the other side is someone who I do not care to see. Christian Grey.

_The song is Bastille Pompeii. I love it. Comments are helpful. Thank you for your support. Depending on my schedule, I will update by the end of this weekend. _


End file.
